


belongings

by qar



Series: MCYT Requests [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Possession, Reunions, Spirits, as in it isn't very important alksjdlkajs, but it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qar/pseuds/qar
Summary: Sapnap tries to befriend his roommate and finds a mask.First request! Sent by NoNamesWereAvailable.Prompt is inside.Disclaimer:If any of the creators mention they are uncomfortable with these types of fics I will take this down.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: MCYT Requests [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982966
Comments: 16
Kudos: 623





	belongings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeesAnonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesAnonymous/gifts).



> Prompt by NoNamesWereAvailable:  
> (this is one ive talked about this a tiny bit on my tumblr (same name as here) and im curious to see where youd go with it)  
> dream is a spirit bound to the smiley face mask people always draw him with and his body is either a) just some dude who’s totally chill about sharing his body with a possessed mask or b) some guy who was in a coma and wasnt going to wake up anyways so dream yoinked his body.  
> this one could go however you feel like going with it im just curious what youd do!
> 
> I ended up focusing on Sapnap waay more than I meant to and getting EXTREMELY off track but I hope everyone enjoys reading this nonetheless!

Sapnap wasn't sure what to make of his new roommate. 

The man was British, and a few years older than him; he had a very posh accent which rubbed against his own Texan one strangely; and he was pretty reclusive and closed off. Sapnap had tried his best to reach out several times, only to be cut short by waspish remarks and hurtful words. Sapnap got it. The man seemed pretty homesick.

At the moment, they held an odd truce. George would stay in his room, Nick in his; One of them would make dinner, and the other would clean up. They didn't speak much to each other, though, because one of them would inevitably end up offended and hurt. Sapnap's crude humor didn't seem to strike a chord with the older man, and George's dry remarks often seemed too serious to be taken as jokes.

It didn't stop Nick from trying to befriend him, though. If he was going to be staying with him, he was absolutely going to be on good terms with him; though most of his plans were fruitless. He'd made him Filipino food his step-mother had taught him to make, he'd offered to give him a tour around the campus, he'd invited him to games of laser-tag with his friends, only to be shot down every time with a polite, "No thank you." It was infuriating.

Today, though, Sapnap thinks as he and Bad make their way towards Sap's apartment, the elder having insisted in walking him home. Today should be different. He has Bad with him, who's proven be able to befriend anyone, and he has some spare cash. Surely he can't mess this up.

The two of them keep an eye out for gift shops; they're in a pretty desolate area, so most of the shops are dimly lit convenience store and mattress shops. Bad's talking about his day; the older male waves his arms expressively as he talks about Skeppy forgetting to return his notes, and how he'd almost failed a quiz because of it. They're best friends, and it's honestly cute. Sapnap wishes he had someone like that. It was fine, though.

Bad stops abruptly as they pass a musty looking store that has ANTIQUES boldly proclaimed on its storefront and tugs Sapnap's sleeve. Nick stops, turns and looks at Bad, who looks back. "Seriously?"

"It could have something nice!" Bad says, defensive. "Also I saw a really nice knife in there."

Sapnap sighs. "I'll buy it for you,: he says. "Consider it an early birthday gift, because I'll probably be broke by next week."

"You don't have to!" Bad protests, suddenly being dragged into the shop by the same hand he'd stopped Sapnap with. "I was just observng it."

"Shush, Bad," Sapnap replies, before being assaulted by the sight of a pile of clout goggles. "Holy fuck, I love this place."

"Language." Bad says absent-mindedly, immediately getting distracted by the pile. "Why are there so many? Who owns this many clout goggles?"

"No clue," Nick says, grabbing the nicest pair. "I'm buying one for him. Maybe it'll hide the British disappointment that's always leaking out of his eyes."

"That's mean, Sap," Bad says. "He's probably just lonely."

"Then why won't he be my friend?" the younger man whines, stepping carefully over a mirror on the floor. "You'd think he'd try to get along with the one person he lives with."

"You're a little hard to get along with," Bad says drily. "There's the knife."

It's a small dagger in a little intricate chest that's been left open. Sapnap doesn't see the appeal of it, he can tell Bad does, so he checks the tag. 

"Ten dollars," he says. "Pretty cheap. Do you want anything else?"

"I'm not gonna make you waste your money on me," Bad says, beaming at him. "Thank you."

Sapnap rubs his neck, flipping the lid of the box with his free hand and picking it up. "No problem."

They make their way back to the counter, Sapnap picking up a small potted plant on the way. Bad nearly topples over several pieces of furniture. Sapnap grabs the back of his hoodie as he almost trips into a dusty plant.

There's no one at the counter, so Sapnap bellows a "IS ANYONE HERE?" while Bad frantically shushes him, and is answered by a "Coming!" from a room in the back. The two of them set their stuff down; Bad's picked up a small blue box with a little crank. He beckons Nick over from where he's observing a set of creepy jars and opens the box. A pleasant melody plays, and Bad grins at him when he realises it's a music box version of "Never Gonna Give You Up."

"I'm gonna buy this for Skeppy!" the older man beams. "It's stupid and it reminds me of him."

"Who would ever sell that?" Sapnap says. "That's fucking gold."

"It is," Bad replies, watching as a short woman ducks into the room and slides behind the counter. "Just these, please."

Nick pulls out his wallet as the woman checks the tags and puts the objects into a bag. Bad follows suit, pulling out some notes and handing them to the other. "Sapnap. For the music box, and some for the knife."

The woman snorts. "Sapnap?"

"That's none of your business, thanks," Bad says. "Can I see that?"

He's pointing to a mask that's hung behind the counter. The woman glares at him, grabs it and slides it across the surface. Bad catches it. "Hot," Sapnap says.

"Shut up," replies Bad. "Buy this."

"What?"

"Just- It's hideous. Maybe you can scare him with it or something."

Sapnap grabs it. It's not that scary; it has two fat dots as eyes and a thin, wobbly smile. "It just looks like a child made it."

"Just take it," the woman says. "It's for like ten cents."

"Okay!" Bad says. "Thank you."

Sapnap hands her the cash and grabs the bag. "Thanks."

They walk out of the store together, and Bad pulls the music box and dagger out of the shopper and into his backpack. "Thank you for the dagger, Sap."

"Anytime," Sapnap replies. "Isn't it strange that we still call each other our Minecraft usernames?"

"I mean.." Bad says. "Not really? I think it's like nicknames."

"I literally alternate between calling myself Nick and Sapnap. So does everyone who's ever met me."

"A little odd."

Sapnap hums, watching as his apartment comes into view. Two familiar bike comes into view; one is his, and the other is George's.

"I still can't believe he rides a bike. He's, like, twink central."

"Don't be rude, Sap," Bad says, smiling. "You were pretty shocked when you realised I do competitive knife-throwing. This should bode well for the future."

Nick laughs and shoves him a bit. "You and I both have no clue what that means."

Bad giggles. "Shush, you muffin, I'm right."

Bad's a good friend, Sapnap thinks as he stomps up the stairs, bag heavy on his back, looking through a window to see the older man amble back the direction they came. He's glad to have him, even if his and Skeppy's friendship makes him feel like a third wheel sometimes.

He unlocks and opens the door and throws his bag on the couch before following it with his entire body. He can hear George startle in the kitchen and sees him round the counter with a knife. Both of them freeze, and Nick laughs.

"Please stab me. I have like three essays due tomorrow."

"You scared me, asshat!" the British man says, putting the knife down. He's wearing a blue sweater with a button up shirt underneath. Twink central indeed.

"I brought you something," Nick says. He pulls out the potted plant and the clout goggles, throwing the latter at the shorter man, who tries to catch them and misses. "Clout goggles. And a plant."

"W-What?" George says, ducking and picking up the glasses. "Why?"

"House warming gift?"

"Sure," he says. "I do like the plant. I'm not sure about the _used clout goggles_."

"They'd suit you," Sapnap says. "Give 'em here."

He catches the white frames, tucking them into his pocket. "One day you'll beg me for them."

"I really don't think so," the pale man replies. "I made pasta."

"Thank god."

"No need to call me god. What the fuck is that?" He's looking at the mask that Sapnap's rummaged out of his bag.

"Uh, Bad was talking about it and the cashier gave it to us for free and I'm not sure what to do with it."

" _Please_ keep it in your room."

"Got it."

They have a surprisingly pleasant dinner, George coding on his laptop and Nick scrolling through Twitter as they absently eat the pasta George's made. When they're done, George retreats to his room and Nick starts clearing the table.

_crack_

Sapnap turns, confused, and looks for the source of the noise.

_screeeeeeeeeeeech_

The mirror over the sofa has a crack on it. Sapnap watches it, terrified, as something seems to scrape the surface. 

_screeeeeeee_

He backs away. 

_eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_

Farther.

_eeeeeeeeee_

He trips over his feet and lands on his ass, hitting a pan on his way down.

_eeeeee_

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck," He murmurs. What the fuck.

_eeeeeeeeeeeech_

"Sapnap what the fuck?" George says, rubbing his eyes as he enters the living room. "Why are you on the floor?"

Sapnap raises a shaking hand. "Look at the mirror."

George moves over to it. "Is this some sort of weird fucking joke? Turn the stove off yourself yourself, bitch."

"I- What does it say?"

"Don't act dumb. I'm going to bed."

The brunet storms back into the hallway, leaving Sapnap, on the floor, still shaking.

_screeeeech_

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he screams.

"Fuck you too!" George calls back. 

"I- I wasn't talking to you, oh my god." Sapnap grabs the edge of a counter and hauls himself up, holding on to it for support, and slowly makes his way to the mirror.

UR STOVE IS ON

SORRY

"What the fuck?" Sapnap says, breathless. He looks behind his shoulder. The stove is on. "I'm fucking dealing with this later, oh my god."

He grabs his bag and jogs to his room, throwing his stuff on the floor, then dashes back to turn off the stove. He locks his door.

~~~

Dream never thought being a spirit would be _lonely_.

He was bound to the stupid fucking mask he'd died with when the minor god had offered him a way to survive, and he'd had to follow it, house to house, watching it get thrown into corners and trying desperately to communicate. It had gotten lost in somebody's house for several months, once; and those months had been the loneliest in Dream's life and death.

And here he was, now, in the house of someone he'd known when he was alive, watching the younger man scramble away from his attempts at communication. It fucking hurt to watch Sapnap- Nick? tremble as he watched the words carve into the mirror. They'd been best friends, once. They'd played Minecraft hours before he'd fallen.

And there was the fact that he was watching Sapnap's fruitless attempts at friendship live. It was depressing; and his friend really must have been lonely to try and befriend George.

Dream was here now, though.

He was close enough to Sapnap, who'd fallen asleep, to make the man reach over, grab the mask and put it on. He flexes his fingers.

It's been a while since he's possessed anyone.

He wanders around for a bit, stretching and cursing Sapnap's posture. He has an essay on the table that's due tomorrow. There's pictures stuck on the mirror of him and various people, one of which is the man from the antique store. Another person Dream recognises is Clay.

He misses that person. He left Clay behind in that river.

Dream slowly makes his way for the door, jerky movements slowly getting smoother. He crosses the hallway and knocks on a door loudly.

Again.

And again.

"What the fuck, Nick, that literally wasn't a funny joke and it's fucking five am-" the door swings open and the British man lets out a shriek. "Literally go fuck yourself, you selfish asshole, I have a seminar at eight!"

"Hello, GeorgeNotFound."

"What, you learned my fucking Minecraft user! Great news, I remember you too. You weren't such a fucking asshole online."

"I'm Dream."

"He died."

"That's why I'm wearing the mask, George." He gestures into George's room. "Inside."

"What the fuck, this is a gross fucking joke, go to sleep."

"Please, George."

"Fucking- sure."

They enter the room. There's papers scattered over the floor, and a laptop's dimmed screen illuminates the room. "Computer Science major, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I always wanted to take film." Dream sits down on the desk chair. "Too late now, I guess."

George is staring at him. "There _is_ something something different about you."

"Finally noticed?"

"I still don't believe you," the brunet snaps. "Dream's death was so horrifying to hear about. He was my best friend."

"You were my best friend too, George. So was Snapmap." Dream rubs Sapnap's eyes. "I missed you two so much. I hate being like this."

Dream can see confusion flash over the other's face before it's replaced by curiousity. "Like what?"

"A spirit."

"You're shitting me, Nick."

"I'm _not_ Nick!" Dream snaps. "George! You were the only person I told when I pissed the bed when I was ten. I had a dream I was being chased by Justin Bieber in a Pac-man maze. Sapnap had no idea it happened."

"I- I never told him, either." George says, realisation finally dawning on his face. 

"I fell into a river when I was 16, Sap was 14 and you were 18. We played on our world hours before that. And a fucking god descended upon me and asked me if I wanted to be a spirit and I did and now I'm stuck in this fucking mask and I've been in it for five fucking years. It's been so fucking lonely. It's incredible luck that Sapnap found me in the first place, and apparently you two hate each other." Dream's breathing heavily when he finishes talking. He feels tears start to drip down his face and onto Sapnap's clothes. It feels so wrong. "Please, George."

George moves towards him as he hunches into himself, salt soaking into his shirt. He's shocked when he feels arms wrap around him, and feels the warmth of a body next to his. He'd spent so long crying alone in corners, wishing desperately for anybody to be able to see him, and the feeling of skin on skin is overwhelming. He fists his hands in the older man's sweater.

"I'm so sorry," George whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"George," Dream hiccups. "I don't want to be alone again."

"I'm so sorry," George repeats. "We're not leaving you."

~~~

Nick wakes up the next day at 4 PM, and scrambles out of bed to realise his classes are already over. There's a mixture of relief and frustration; for one, he didn't have to worry about attending late, but on the other hand he'd just missed several classes.

He ambles down to the living room, still in a rumpled T-shirt and pajamas. George is there, which is surprising. The mask is in his hand, and Sapnap immediately jumps at the sight of it. 

"George, please listen to me, I really didn't prank you yesterday I swear-"

"I know," George says. "I brought the mask here. Calm down. I made you pancakes." 

There's a pile of pancakes on the table. Sapnap runs for them and sits down. "Thanks. Are you possessed?"

George looks strangely uncomfortable, and makes a dismissive noise. "George?"

"Not yet, anyway."

"Oh my god, George, what does that mean?"

"Do you remember Dream?"

"Of course," Sapnap says. "He was my best friend."

"Yeah," George said. "Guess what."

"You're terrible at this," George says, laughing. Tears start to drip from his right eye.

"What the fuck?" Sapnap says. "Oh my god."

He stands and makes his way over to where the Brit is standing and grabs his chin, tilting his head left and right. The eye shedding tears is bright green. "Oh my god."

"Sapnap?"

"Oh my fucking god," Nick chokes out. "George don't get my hopes up."

"You're accepting this a lot quicker than I did."

"Oh my god." He says. Liquid starts gathering in his eyes. "Oh my god, Dream?"

"Hey, Sapnap," George says in a distinctively American accent. His voice sounds different too; it sounds more similar to, well. Dream. 

George pulls the mask on, and pulls it over his hair. Both his eyes are green. 

"Dream!" Sapnap yells, throwing himself into the older man's arms. Both of them are crying. "You died."

"I know," Dream says. "I'm a spirit, by the way, not a ghost."

"I don't fucking care, Dream, I missed you so much." He pulls back, looking down at George's face. His eyes are startlingly familiar, and looking at them makes Sapnap tear up all over again. "I found your body."

"I'm so sorry for leaving you," Dream says. 

"I'm so sorry you died," Sapnap says, choking out a laugh. "I wish I'd have saved you."

"We're all here now," Dream replies. "I can possess you whenever I want. Or scrape your mirrors."

"Fuck you," Sapnap says. "I missed you."

~~~

"Do we really need a possession timetable?" Sapnap says. "Dream can possess me any time."

"Whof. Arf. Flurf." Rat the dog says, a mask strapped to his back. Bad buries his head in his hands.

"I am _not_ flirting with you, Dream, I'm just saying that organisation sucks ass and if you keep attending lectures for me you can literally have my body."

"This is exactly why we need a possession timetable," George says.

"My dog is possessed by my long-dead friend," Bad says. "I'm so confused." 

Rat the dog pats Bad on the head. "Orfloh fora bat."

"Only for a bit?" George guesses. Rat the dog nods sagely. "Yeah, and then you'll be using _my_ body to commit various crimes."

"You can commit any crimes in my body," Sapnap says. 

"Stop flirting," Bad says. "Just make the timetable."

"Making the timetable," Sapnap says, turning back to the massive whiteboard that's been christened with a massive POSSESSION TIMETABLE at the top.

Using Rat the Dog as a temporary body while George and Sapnap are discussing when their bodies are going to be used as Dream's vessel is a strange, unconventional situation. It's better than being dead, though, so Dream settles into Bad's lap and watches his friends argue about class timings. This is fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can send prompts in my requests fic, which is the first in the MCYT Requests series :)  
> Kudos, comments and bookmarks are appreciated.  
> Have a good day, everybody, and stay safe!! <3


End file.
